The itsy-bitsy spider
by JoMiSm
Summary: Natasha is saved by a little girl. A little girl is given a second chance. What if the Red Room was still operating, turning more little girls into brainwashed assassins?
1. Chapter 1

_**It's benchmark week. The song was stuck in my head. I had half an hour left and I was done with my writing prompt. I wrote this in my mind. Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, but I made up Anastasia and Co. **_

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Natasha was trapped.

Normally, there was always a way out, and she would invariably find it. Now...not so much. She sat in the middle of a courtyard, the buildings around her a faded, mossy brick. There were no windows or doors until the fourth floor. The weathered and beaten cobblestone floor had been her bed last night, and the night before, and the night before that...

Her captor, Viktor. He had two children, a daughter and a son. His daughter, Anastasia- she had some sympathy for Natasha, having felt the brunt of her fathers anger many times through her six years. They had been instructed to leave 'the prisoner' alone, but Anastasia had tossed down a few pieces of bread, probably from her own meager dinner. That was the reason they had trapped her in the first place- Natasha had a huge price on her head, and she knew it. The son, Ivan, was probably fifteen or so, the fathers favorite. Anastasia had no allies in the house.

Natasha didn't think Viktor wise for leavin his children so close to the trained assassin, but they probably couldn't afford to move.

Natasha also felt a little sympathy for Anastasia, the poor girl, but she felt nothing but cold hatred toward Viktor and Ivan. They taunted her from the fifth story, which Natasha still might have gotten to, had she really wanted to, but she knew that night just make it worse.

Anastasia knew the deadline on Natasha's brief stay, and it was approaching quickly. She knew a risky way out, but it was almost too dangerous to try. On the other hand, it was too dangerous not to try.

"The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the water spout," began the six year old, her window open. The English would be impossible for her father an brother to interpret. Anastasia, however, knew just enough to sing this song.

Natasha heard the words. Was she mocking her? 'The itsy-bitsy spider' was obviously directed at her. But what about 'climbed up the water spout?'

"Down came the rain and it washed the spider out," continued Anastasia, hoping her brother wouldn't yell at her to be quiet. She would have to obey.

'Down came the rain?' Thought Natasha, instinctively looking up. She immediately saw it, the old gutter running down the building. Was Anastasia telling her to climb it? It didn't seem stable enough to support her weight, her mind automatically dismissing it when she scanned for a way out earlier. Looking again, it could be a fair chance.

Anastasia paused her singing, the term 'out came the sun' being the signal for Ivan. She knew Natasha had caught on by now. She sat on the foot of her bed, her eyes trained on the door opposite the window, waiting for Natasha, and her escape from poverty, to escape with the setting sun.

Natasha didn't feel comfortable with all of her weight on the small metal shaft, but she knew she had no choice. Besides, there was the ledge outside Anastasia's window in just a few feet. Almost there...she made it. Anastasia's gaze flitted to her for a second before they returned to the door. "Out came the sun." She whispered.

Natasha heard her brother's footsteps coming, making the split second decision that was going to hurt in the morning. She jumped, twisting and rolling so that she wouldn't be injured. A four story fall, however skilled you are, will always leave you sore.

Anastasia heard her brother pass the door completely. She paid no attention to the full thud of the redhead hitting the ground. "And it dried up all the rain." She finished.

A few moments later, Natasha was back on the windowsill. "And the itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the spout again." Finished Natasha quietly. Anastasia met her gaze for a moment, reading the thankfulness in Natasha's eyes. Natasha gave a slight nod to the girl who had most likely saved her life, then resumed the short climb to the roof. Within minutes, The Black Widow had vanished into the night, the childish rhyme repeating in her head.

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_**There are going to be people who ask "Why didn't Anastasia just tell her to climb it outright?" Because, dear reader, that would have been directly disobeying her father. **_

_**This could be read as a one shot, but I have some more chapters written. Depends on what y'all think. Thank you!**_

_**-JoMiSm **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**This is pretty fun to write, actually. Disclaimer: Um, I totally own the avengers. That's definitely why I'm writin fanfiction instead of a movie script. COME ON PEOPLE, WHO ON FANFICTION ACTUALLY OWNS ANYTHING?!**_

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Anastasia was trapped.

She knew it was a dead end, knew it with all of her heart, but there was nowhere else to turn. She ran anyway, seeing the approaching wall and drawing her knives. If she failed this mission, she would be Punished. The Red Room did not accept failure.

She didn't recognize the woman following her, another who had been in the Room so long ago. Natasha, the woman she'd saved, chased her down the deserted dead end alley.

Anastasia steeled herself, her back against the wall, as Natasha stopped a short distance from her, sizing her up. Suddenly, the woman who was previously trying to kill her donned a look of confused recognition. "Anastasia?" She asked warily.

Anastasia tensed slightly, confirming Natasha's theory. Natasha never left her defensive posture; she simply knew better. "You don't remember me." she stated. Not a question, a fact. The Room took your memories and replaced them, she knew from experience.

Anastasia did recognize Natasha in a way besides the videos and pictures her trainers had shown her. Her expressions, her eyes, things she shouldn't recognize, she did. She didn't trust this feeling, so she searched for a weakness in her opponent. She could find none, none at all.

Suddenly, with a small gasp of surprise, Anastasia's knees buckled and her consciousness evaded her. Natasha caught the young girl before her blonde head could hit the damp concrete. Sure, it had been several years since their last meeting, but Natasha could recognize the now about fifteen Anastasia. Natasha quickly disarmed the girl while she was unconscious-she didn't have long; the Room's memory wipes did their job.

Anastasia had witnessed other girls have a relapse, but had never thought it would happen to her. Those girls were Punished and their memories taken away again. Her worries of punishment clouded her mind as she was pulled gently into the memory Natasha had triggered.

She opened her eyes in a room she couldn't recognize for several moments. Her old bedroom? She had a life before the training? A far younger version of herself was singing to someone out the window, and older-Anastasia pretty much knew who it had to be. As expected, Natasha appeared at the window. She felt a rush of terror with her younger self as her brother-She had a brother?! A brother named...She couldn't remember, and it frustrated her. Her brother walked by, the terror passed, and Natasha appeared at the window again, her eyes saying thank you in a way she never could in words. The room faded around the edges, a dull mist devouring the room from the edges. Anastasia looked around frantically, trying her best to memorize the room.

Suddenly, Anastasia was back on the ground, Natasha watching for a short distance away. Anastasia sat up, ignoring her pounding head. That memory-she'd had a life, a brother, a father, a room in a house. A mean father and a sometimes cruel brother in a drafty, leaky house perhaps, but it was _hers_. And the Room had taken it all away. The treasonous thought scared her, but continued to ring in her mind.

"What were their names?" asked Anastasia, looking straight ahead at the brick wall. The question was all that mattered now, her universe narrowing to the barest glimpse of a memory.

"Who?" Asked Natasha warily, not relaxing at all.

"My brother. My father." said Anastasia softly. Natasha's eyes widened slightly in shocked envy-she hadn't ever had a memory return.

After a moment, Natasha said "Your brother was Ivan; Your father, Viktor."

"They killed my family." Said Anastasia, praying Natasha would deny it. She didn't know why she said it, but a deeply buried instinct told her she was correct.

Natasha could have killed her by now, but she didn't. Don't ask her why; she wasn't even sure herself. "How old were you when you entered the Room?" asked Natasha gently, relaxing slightly.

"Nine." Answered Anastasia numbly. Natasha had entered at an even younger age, but that didn't make the fact any better.

"How old are you now?" Asked Natasha, steeling herself for the answer.

"Fourteen." said Anastasia.

Natasha knelt beside Anastasia, making a split second decision. "They sent a fourteen year old to kill me." Anastasia nodded, not looking up at Natasha, sure her life was about to end. "You have three options now." Anastasia glanced at her from under her eyelashes. "You can go back to them and lose all of your memories, as well as being punished for not killing me." Anastasia didn't protest at the remark; Natasha had far better skills. "You can go on your own and be hunted down by the Room, or SHIELD, or the CIA, or anyone..."

Anastasia waited for the next option.

"Or you can come back to SHIELD with me." said Natasha, not giving herself time to hesitate.

Anastasia blinked, knowing there was only really one choice. "Won't your agency be angry? You were sent to eliminate me." asked Anastasia meekly.

"I made a different call." Said Natasha, standing and offering her hand. Anastasia took it and stood, automatically wishing for her weapons. "Now, come on. You should meet my partner." said Natasha, her tone neutral as she walked quickly back the way they'd come.

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_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You reviewer that read my entire plot somehow-Y U SUCH A MINDREADER?!**_

_**Thank you guys! **_

_**-JoMiSm **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello, dear readers. :) this chapter is fairly short, I believe. I have a LOT of this story already written in a notebook, but I don't want to type ITTTTT...**_

_**ANNOUNCEMENT! Everyone who keeps guessing that Natasha will adopt Anastasia-that is a VERY unlikely case scenario. Think about the black widow, her assassin life style, all of her enemies that would harm a daughter-does that seem like something she would realistically do? **_

_**Disclaimer: See former chapter, you spoilsports who report people for leaving out a disclaimer. **_

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Anastasia followed Natasha warily into the safe house, not knowing at all who Natasha's partner was. During intel, they'd been told in general of a partner, just never going in depth. Her mission was kill or be killed, the latter more likely.

Natasha stepped inside, motioning for Anastasia to wait for a moment. Natasha stepped through the door, presumably to warn her partner. Anastasia could've escaped, obviously, but where would she go?

"Barton." Said Natasha. Clint immediately knew it was serious; she always called him Clint now. He walked into the room, an inquiring look on his face. "Do you remember the story I used to tell you about that mission gone wrong? The little girl, Anastasia, helped me out?"

"Yeah, while I was in Istanbul. I always wondered what happened to her." He froze, realizing. "It was her, wasn't it?" Was. As in, he thought she'd completed the mission.

"Yes. But I didn't kill her." Said Natasha. Best to be frank; she didn't like to deceive her partner.

Clint paled slightly; even if she wasn't anywhere near Natasha's level, she was still above most SHIELD agents. He wasn't going to question her, though. She'd doubtless thought of it enough.

Natasha read this in her partner. "I didn't let her go, either." she stated, letting the words hang in the air. Clint's eyes flashed with confusion before he realized what she'd done.

"You brought her back." He said.

In response, Natasha walked back to the door, opening it. "Anastasia, you can come in now." She murmured. Obediently, used to obeying her superiors, she stepped into the room. Her face was a stony mask, which told both Clint and Natasha of her uneasiness. Natasha had been the same, minus the obedience.

Clint was going to say something along the lines of 'Do you know how mad SHIELD'll be?,' but then he looked again at Anastasia. She had to be younger than Natasha was when he'd made the same decision. He settled on saying "How old are you?" not Anastasia.

Anastasia blinked. Why was everyone so concerned with her age? "Fourteen." She said, her tone neutral and her English flawless.

Now it was Clint's turn to blink. Fourteen? They sent a fourteen-year-old to kill the Black Widow? He sat down on a chair, confident in his ability to defend himself, therefore, relaxed. He looked Anastasia in the eyes. You don't look away from your superiors, so Anastasia held his gaze. Finally, he said "Why are you coming with us?"

Anastasia thought for a moment. "Because it was the only option where I didn't end up back in the Room." She said finally.

"How do we know you're not going to go rogue?" asked Clint, who was suspicious for a good reason.

"They killed my family, took all my memories, punished me..." She swallowed, remembering. "-and besides, I could've escaped five times already."

Clint sighed. "This won't be easy, Tasha."

Natasha sat down, leaving Anastasia the only one standing. "I know, but she needed a second chance."

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_**Thank you guys! Sorry it took me so long to update, I hate ttttyyyyypppiiiinng ittttt... Blame it on the tiny iPhone screen. **_

_**M'kay, bye!**_

_**-JoMiSm**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**I am surprised by the amount of people who like this. This is a humble attempt at a plot; most of my stories are one shots over a period of time. **_

_**Disclaimer: Rainbows. Rainbows everywhere. **_

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Anastasia found that, like Natasha, she hated her name. It was a reminder of her past self, her fourteen year old assassin self, so she decided to change it.

"Ana, maybe?" Said Clint, looking at the young girl.

Anastasia shook her head. "My comrades called me that." she said, feeling strange, having told her superior no.

"Annie?" Asked Natasha thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair.

Anastasia blinked. It was Americanized enough that it didn't remind her of the old Anastasia. "I like it." She replied.

So Anastasia's name went from Anastasia Ivanova to Annie Smith, not wanting anything remotely close to Ivanova in her name. She was called by her last name by her trainers.

Natasha and Clint left the room without offering an explanation...too many years of working together; they were used to not having to explain things to each other.

Annie didn't fully trust Clint and Natasha, not yet, but they were the closest things to allies she could get. She knew their jobs were on the line for her. She also knew her life was probably at risk by now, at risk the moment the tracking device she wasn't supposed to know about went off line. The Room was going to come after her.

As if reading Annie's thoughts, Natasha and Clint reappeared in the room, bags in hand. "We should go now. They've got to be on your trail." said Natasha.

Annie nodded and stood. They left the safe house in an unsuspecting white SUV, Clint and Natasha in the front, Annie in the back. The stone mask was back, once again doing the opposite of its intention and revealing her nervousness to the two assassins.

"Who's meeting us?" Asked Natasha.

"Coulson." Replied Clint, remembering the last time Coulson had dealt with a Red Room trainee. He had been furious, of course, but he had stood with Clint. Now Natasha was the very best at SHIELD, no matter what Clint's claims were otherwise.

They drove the rest of the way in a slightly uncomfortable silence to the secret SHIELD base. A seriously ticked off Coulson stood beside the waiting SHIELD plane, glaring holes into the car as it pulled up. Natasha stepped out first. "Coulson, I-"

"Don't you 'Coulson' me, Natasha. Why didn't you check in after the mission?" He asked, his voice titanium.

Clint then stepped out of the car, earning another death glare. Coulson waited for an answer impatiently.

Almost as if in response, Annie stepped out of the car, the stone mask intact. She stood with perfect posture, avoiding Coulson's gaze.

Coulson looked at Clint. "You didn't."

Natasha spoke up. "He didn't. I did." She said, refusing to back down. Phil stared at her as though she'd lost her mind.

"Are you kidding me? Fury will be furious-and don't you dare snicker, Barton." Phil said, running a hand through his hair.

Annie, going against every rule she'd ever been taught, spoke up. "Sir," she said, looking at his shoes. "You don't have to accept me." She looked into his eyes, letting her fear show through. "But, please, don't make me go back."

The silence was unbreakable as they looked at each other, Coulson finally looking away with a sigh. "You two are telling Fury yourselves." he said, glaring at Natasha and Clint. With that, he turned on his heel and stalked onto the plane.

Clint followed. Natasha motioned for Annie to board, murmuring "He wasn't even mad-he must like you." To the young girl as she walked past.

Annie made a mental note to never tick off Coulson.

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_**So, those of you who actually review, why do you like this story?**_

_**-JoMiSm**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hey guys! Sorry! I had to update my other story, which I hadn't updated in a few weeks.**_

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"How old are you?" Asked Coulson, seated across from Annie on the plane.

Annie was very tired of that question. "Fourteen." she answered for the third time in less than twenty-four hours.

Coulson didn't even blink. "What's your name?"

"Anast-Annie. Annie Smith." she said, kicking herself mentally. Wordlessly, Phil looked at Natasha.

"She changed her name, like I did." she said.

"Five minutes until we land." Said the pilot from the front.

"You-" said Coulson, pointing at Clint and Natasha with a glare. "-give her some info. _Minimal _info. I'm filling out that report you so _helpfully _forgot." He then stalked into the back room, his laptop with him.

Natasha spoke up first. "Guy in an eye patch is director Fury. He's our boss, and his boss is The Council, which you hopefully won't see."

"Not a good idea to play the anger card with Fury, or he'll live up to his name." added Clint a few moments later. He spoke from experience.

"What _should _I do?" Asked the young girl quietly.

"You stand there quietly unless directly spoken to. I'm the one in trouble, not you." said Natasha with a sigh.

The plane began descent.

"What if they won't accept me?" asked Annie as the wheels hit the ground.

"They'll accept you." Said Natasha. _or they will lose their top assassin._

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_**I know, it's short. But I'm sooo tired! How about this-I swear I will update every Saturday. Deal?**_

_-JoMiSm _


	6. Chapter 6

_**I will update again early cuz that last one was less than 300 words. Shout out to Elekat-she reviews all of my stories and is generally an awesome person. Love ya!**_

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Natasha stood beside Annie outside Fury's door, having told Clint he _absolutely could not come. _She knew he had to be in an air vent.

Annie glanced up at Natasha through her shoulder length golden curls. Natasha caught her gaze. "Don't worry." She assured her in quiet Hebrew, a language she knew for sure Fury didn't speak.

"Thank you." replied Annie, in the same tongue, without missing a beat. She returned her gaze to the floor when Fury called them in.

"Romanoff. You have some explaining to do." growled a scary black man in an eye patch, which Annie assumed was Director Fury.

"She would be an asset to SHIELD, she's already more obedient than Barton, and I owed her a debt." She said smoothly, summing it all up in twenty words.

"_That is not your call to make,__" _growled Fury. "Everyone's more obedient than Barton," Someone hiding in the air vent just got their pride hurt. "And how do you owe a-how old are you?" He said, shifting his gaze to Annie.

"Fourteen." Said Annie, yet again.

"-a fourteen year old a debt?" He finished, looking back at Natasha.

"She saved my life when she was six. Remember when Barton was in Istanbul and I was in Moscow?" said Natasha.

Fury paused for a moment; very few people knew that story, but he was one of them. "You can be fired for this."

"I know." She said, knowing full well he couldn't fire her because he'd lose his best team.

"I _should _fire you for this." He said, now sounding more tired than angry.

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't leave her." said Natasha. She really was sorry. Fury was about to be put through the wringer by the Council. They both knew it.

Fury sighed, steeling himself for the uphill battle. "You and Barton are on six months of probation. Get her to Dr. Morrison." he said, turning his back on the pair. Natasha walked quickly out of the room, Annie close behind.

"How many assignments have you been on?" asked Natasha quietly in Russian. Most, if not all, of the people in the hall didn't speak it anyway.

"Five. Four intel and one royally screwed up assassination." She responded, referring to the mission she had just gotten back from.

"He must have known your record. You're lucky you haven't been sent on more assassinations." Very lucky. Natasha had never been that lucky. Natasha led her down a stairwell.

"Who is Dr. Morrison?" Asked Annie in a small voice. She'd had bad experiences with doctors.

"She is a psychologist. She will interview you." said Natasha, stopping at a door.

"What's probation?" asked Annie, not familiar with the concept. With her, there was success and failure, Punishment and the lack thereof.

"The most boring missions Fury can think of, usually consisting of watching an abandoned building in the Sahara for two weeks." replied Natasha, knocking on the door.

A quick "Come in." Was the reply.

"Good luck." said Natasha, nodding farewell and walking away down the hall. Annie steeled herself and pushed open the door.

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_**I know it's short too. It's better than nothing, though, right? **_

_**-JoMiSm **_


	7. Chapter 7

_**True to my word-it's Saturday! WHO ELSE SAW IRON MAN 3?! OMG.**_

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A very obviously Native American woman with glasses looked up as Annie made her entrance. "Annie?" asked Dr. Morrison, having been informed by Agent Coulson about the young girl.

"Yes, Ma'am." said Annie, easily assuming American etiquette.

"Come in, sit down, and don't call me ma'am, call me Janice." said Dr. Morrison-Janice-motioning her in with the wave of a pencil.

"Yes, Ma'-" at Janice's look, she changed to "-Janice." Annie sat down obediently.

"I assume your native language is Russian?" asked Janice, raising an eyebrow at Annie. In other words, where are you from?

"Da." said Annie, looking away from Janice's gaze.

Janice made a mark on a piece of paper. "Why do you want to join SHIELD?" Why didn't you run from agent Romanoff?

"I do not wish to go back to the Red Room." said Annie.

Another quick scribble. "Why don't you want to return?" Why should I trust you?

Annie closed her eyes for a brief moment. "They killed my family. Besides, they'd punish me; I failed my mission."

Dr. Morrison had never gotten to interview Natasha, but she hadn't said a word to her other interrogator/therapist. Annie was being almost overly cooperative; their difference in demeanor was astonishing.

Janice didn't write these things down. "What was your mission?"

There was no protocol for Room trainees. Annie was only the second.

"I was to kill Natalia Romanova." At Janice's slightly confused look, she added "Natasha Romanoff." Of course she wouldn't know her real name; though Janice'd been at SHIELD for a while, it wasn't long enough to know that.

"They sent you to kill agent Romanoff." said Janice, her voice doubtful. No way a fourteen-year old could take on SHIELD's best agent.

"Da, as I'm sure someone will be sent to kill me." responded Annie frankly.

This visibly shook Dr. Morrison, if only for a moment, because the girl in front of her was young. Very young. Too young for this life.

Seeing her look, Annie said "I'm not the youngest in the program."

After tapping her pencil for a moment, Janice wrote that down. "Why should we trust you?" she asked finally.

"Why would I throw away my one chance at a new life?" asked Annie.

"That's not a good enough answer, sweetheart." sighed Janice.

At the pet name, Annie glared at the ground. "Because...now I owe Agent Romanoff a debt. I don't know if I will ever be able to repay it, but I will give my all until I do."

Janice looked thoughtful. "I have to speak to Director Fury. I'm sorry to say you'll have to stay in one of the cells until he makes his decision." She looked sad at this fact. Annie just nodded.

"Thank you, Dr. Morrison." she said quietly, awaiting her escort team.

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_**Tell me if you've seen iron man 3 yet!**_

_**-JoMiSm **_


	8. Chapter 8

_**I'm sorry! Saturday before last, Fanfiction decided to be evil and LOCK ME OUT OF FANFIC ALL WEEKEND LONG-seriously, I was dying. Then, this Saturday, I was grounded. I'm sorry! You will get your updates ASAP, I swear. **_

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A few moments later, the extraction team, lead by Agent Crane, showed up at the door, waiting outside. Reluctantly, but not showing it, Annie stepped outside.

"You're who we are supposed to escort?" asked Crane, obviously disbelieving.

"Yes." Said Annie quietly, passively looking at the ground. It wasn't very interesting; a dull, uniform grey.

"But you're just a little girl!" said one of Crane's team of three.

"Don't you have somewhere to take me?" she asked sharply, glaring up at the offending man through her veil of hair.

"Aw, look, she's mad!" he said, gesturing with his hand...just a bit too close to her face.

In a flash, Annie grabbed the offending hand, twisting it tightly, painfully, behind his back and slamming his head against the wall. It hit with a loud BANG-and I can't say Dr. Morrison didn't smirk from the other side of the wall. All happened within an instant, the men jumping away in surprise, then pulling her off their friend. She didn't resist.

"Sheesh, kid, what's the big idea?" asked the man she had just pwned.

"Sorry. Instincts." she said, innocently batting her eyelashes at him. Without further ado, two men grabbed her arms, one walked in front of her, and one walked behind; they felt very confident in this way of transporting her, but it would be laughably easy for her to escape.

The one holding her left arm was the one she'd slammed against the wall, and he continually tightened his grip on her wrist. Finally, his knuckles were turning white with the force exerted on her young hand.

Annie didn't show any emotion when she said "Sir? Could you loosen your grip a little?" She glanced up at him when there was no verbal or physical response.

He was _ignoring _her. First grade, much?

"I've got it from here." said Natasha, appearing from positively nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of the men. They jumped.

"I have direct orders from Morrison to escort her to cell 39B." protested Crane.

"You are relieved of your orders." said Natasha, with a dark undertone to her words as she shifted her stance.

"That isn't your command to give-"

"I said, _you are relieved of your orders._" Natasha's voice was icy. She crossed her arms at the men, giving them the death glare that said 'I am about to kill you. I recommend you run.' They visibly cringed, backing off of the angry redhead. A few moments later, they vanished down the hallway.

"Thank you." said Annie, ignoring the pain in her wrist.

"No problem," said Natasha, remembering her stay in a cell. "Come on, there's somewhere you should see."

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_**My teacher gave me ice cream today. :D jealous? You should be. ;) **_

_**-JoMiSm**_

_**P.S. Review, please, and I will update again TODAY. THAT'S RIGHT...TODAY. **_


	9. Chapter 9

_**:D Hihi! AHHHH! There's bad, bad weather headed toward me. :( sadface. **_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all.**_

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"What are you saying, Dr. Morrison?" asked Fury, rubbing his temples.

"I have no doubt in her abilities," sighed Janice, "But she is simply too young."

Fury sighed. He hated making decisions like this. Sometimes, he just wished Coulson or Hill would just take over for a day. As he opened his mouth to seal Annie's fate, he was interrupted by someone on his comm.

"Director Fury," said Agent Hill. "I've been alerted that there is a situation in training room B." Training room B, as in, Natasha and Clint's adopted training room.

Fury growled, standing, startling Morrison, whose comm wasn't on the same frequency. "What's wrong, sir?" she asked, worried.

"I have a feeling Crane's team was intercepted." replied Fury, stalking out of his office, his murderous glare scaring everyone out of his way.

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Training room B was far more crowded than it normally was. A circle of people, consisting mostly of juniors, but with a few higher agents mixed in, surrounded the training mat. Annie, who hated the crowd surrounding her, pinned another annoying junior to the mat, the crowd cheering. A fourteen year old taking you down-that kind of thing would haunt you forever at SHIELD.

Annie, tired of the limelight, looked around for a polite way out, but saw none. Looking up instinctually, (there's almost always an escape via ceiling.), she saw Natasha and Clint in the rafters, waiting for her, it appeared.

A gap in the crowd appeared, and Annie used it. She ran through, kicking off a wall, flipping mid-air gracefully and landing mid-way up a rope which went to the ceiling. She climbed it easily, stopping beside Natasha and Clint.

"I wondered when they'd finally annoy you." said Clint, tossing a water bottle casually at Annie.

"They annoyed her the whole time." said Natasha, knowing how to read Annie's body language. Natasha turned back to Annie, adding "Sorry, it isn't usually this crowded."

It was true; training room A was usually the most crowded, being the best one. But rumor of another Red Room trainee made their second-rate private training room pretty full.

"Thank you for bringing me anyways. It must be far better than a cell."

The room quite suddenly went deathly silent, everyone snapping to attention. Fury stalked in, demanding "Where are Barton and Romanoff?" About fifty juniors pointed at the ceiling, looking quite silly. Fury's good eye glared at the three assassins. "Down. Now." He growled.

Oh no. It just got real.

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_**I'm sorry, but I just wrote half of this chapter impromptu, because I haven't written anything else! My notebook ends at "better than a cell!" **_

_**I just typed this for you, sun kissed! :) **_

_**-JoMiSm**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**It's still Saturday! I kept my promise! **_

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Natasha materialized beside Fury, trailing Annie. Natasha looked suspiciously innocent, and Annie looked at the ground. Fury looked up for Clint.

Clint was lying lazily in the rafters, one foot dangling down. The juniors stared, shocked. "Nah, I think I'd rather stay up here." he deadpanned. After all, Fury is scary, but he is less scary from a distance.

Before most of them could react, Fury shot a bullet up at Clint, startling all of the juniors. Clint, however, is not 'most of them,' or a clueless Junior, and he had jumped out of the way. Yeah, maybe he _isn't _less scary from a distance. Half a moment later, a grumpy looking Clint appeared, putting Natasha between himself and Fury.

_'__gee, thanks.' _she wordlessly communicated at him.

_'no prob.' _said his expression.

"Everyone else-dismissed." growled Fury, keeping his eye on the trio. The others instantly scattered, sending a few sympathetic looks their way.

"Now, would you care to tell me why you intercepted my escort team against orders, Romanoff?" Asked Fury, though she had no choice other than to answer.

Natasha remained silent, and Annie was mentally blaming herself for getting Natasha in trouble..again.

"Answer me, Romanoff." growled Fury icily.

"...they were injuring her for no reason." said Natasha, holding up Annie's wrist. A large hand-shaped bruise covered her small wrist completely. That wasn't the whole reason, of course. Natasha remembered her time in a cell well, and you aren't treated very nicely, to say the least. It wasn't Annie's fault that she was a Trainee, and she shouldn't have to go through that.

Fury glanced at Annie's cruel injury. "They will be reprimanded in due time." Fury then stared at Annie, who didn't shift away, but was very uncomfortable.

Finally, finally, Fury said "You will be monitored for two months," A lie; she would be monitored for six months to a year, at least. "And you will be expected to bunk with Agent Romanoff for further surveillance." Just before he left, he added three words which made Annie's heart leap. "Dismissed, Agent Smith."

* * *

_**Sneak peek! **_

A little while later, Natasha and her apparent new roommate appeared at Natasha's small off-site apartment. Natasha unlocked her door, keeping the only key with her-she wasn't going to fully trust her yet.

_**Review! **_


	11. Chapter 11

**_I AM A DWARF AND I'M DIGGING A HOLE, DIGGY DIGGY HOLE, I'M DIGGING A HOLE! -Honeydew_**

* * *

A little while later, Natasha and her apparent new roommate appeared at Natasha's small off-site apartment. Natasha unlocked her door, keeping the only key with her-she wasn't going to fully trust her yet.

Natasha led Annie silently to a little guest room with a bathroom off to the side. "It's been a long day; Get some rest." Said Natasha, closing the door and walking off down the hall.

Annie sat on the bed, allowing her thoughts and worries she'd been repressing all day flood over her.

_Is it possible? Could they really want me...?_

**_No. _**said her rational side, the side which had kept her alive. _**They're going to betray you. Stab you in the back. You should've gone back to the Room and taken your punishment. **_

_They could be the way out._ mused her hopeful side, the side which had made her take Natasha's offer. _Natasha could really mean what she says..._

_**She is a liar and killer in the service of liars and killers. She will kill you. You are in her home-! She lulls you into a false sense of security, and then...**_

"She strikes." whispers Annie. "No, no..." She placed her face in her hands.

_**If I leave, the Room kills me. If I stay, Natasha kills me. I'm doomed either way... **_

"I'm doomed either way." Repeated Annie, curling into a ball. What does it matter? She couldn't beat Natasha if she tried, so why try? Why fight back? The Room would get her again if she did manage to escape, and death would be better than punishment. Death-! Annie laughed harshly. She welcomed it. There are things far worse than death.

Natasha paused in the hall, hearing Annie's laugh. Her eyes widened, realizing... Annie had to be having a panic attack, and Natasha kicked herself for not realizing it would happen sooner. She ran back to Annie's door, her feet making no sound. She knocked softly. "Annie?" She tried the doorknob. Locked. "Annie," she called softly. "Open the door, please."

Annie's laughs turned to sobs. "No..." She gasped, scrambling off of the bed and into the corner. She would've prayed to any god she could think of if religion hadn't been drilled into their minds as 'meaningless.'

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the lock, picking it in a matter of seconds and opening the door slowly. "Annie, it's okay-" she began, her voice gentle.

"Why did you bring me here? Would it not have been easier to kill me in the alley?" said Annie, her posture defeated and not at all defensive.

"Annie, I'm not going to kill you." said Natasha. "I've given you a second chance. _Trust me._" she said, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking calmly down at Annie.

"_Trust _you? You, who lies for a living?" Annie muttered, glaring up at Natasha.

"Yes, Annie, trust me. Because yes, if I was going to kill you, I would've done it in the alley. I'm on your side, and as of right now, your side pretty much consists of me and my partner." Said Natasha, slowly kneeling beside Annie.

Annie looked up at her. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. If you don't kill me, they will." Natasha knew without a doubt who 'them' referred to.

"I won't let them get you." promised Natasha.

"You can't promise that." Whispered Annie.

"I _promise_." said Natasha. Annie looked down from Natasha's honest gaze. "Now come on, get some rest." said Natasha, standing and offering her hand. Annie looked at it like some foreign object, not able to move from her tense position, still on edge from her panic attack.

"Don't freak out." Said Natasha quickly, and that was the only warning before Annie was promptly and easily picked up by Natasha. Half a moment later, before Annie even knew she was in Natasha's arms, she was on the bed, the covers pulled over her. "Goodnight, Annie." said Natasha, pausing at the door and turning off the light.

Annie blinked in surprise at Natasha's kindness. "Goodnight." she said, her voice neutral and thus showing her surprise.

Natasha closed the door again, walking slowly off down the hall to make sure Annie didn't have another attack. She had nothing to worry about, because though Annie stayed awake for the next few hours _wanting _to doubt Natasha's word, she couldn't make herself believe Natasha was lying to her.

She should've left her in the alley.

She should've killed her.

She should've put her in a cell.

But she didn't.

* * *

_**Long, early update. I love you too. :)**_

_**Review!**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**I leave today, guys! :) I sowee. Except I'm not, cuz I'm going to band camp. WOO! NERDIEST OF THE NERD CAMPS! **_

* * *

At four o' clock the next morning, Annie mechanically jumped out of bed, standing at attention briskly and calling "Внимание!" ...then, she actually took in her surroundings, and the events of the previous day caught up to her. Slowly, wonderingly, she moved from her stiff position.

Natasha knocked, walking in without waiting for a reply. "В своей тарелке." she said softly, looking into Annie's eyes, making sure she was alright. Annie looked down, sitting on the bed. "You okay?" added Natasha gently.

Annie was silent for a moment. "...What's the schedule here?" she hesitantly said. They had a schedule, right? Everyone had to... She'd grown up on an insanely strict schedule, it was all she'd ever known.

"Mmm... You sleep until you aren't tired, eat something, and go from there." said Natasha nonchalantly, emphasizing how different this was from the Room.

"No schedule? No roll call? No training?" She asked in a small voice. This was all she'd ever known. Her entire life was in the Room. And yet, she was completely different from Natasha. Annie wanted to help; Natasha had a vendetta against them all. Maybe Natasha's eight more years in the Room made all the difference.

"We're the only ones here-no roll call. Training... You'll never be put through anything like that again. SHIELD's best training is the Room's warm-up." said Natasha, her demeanor going dark as she remembered the training.

Natasha knew Annie wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. She'd been waking up at four in the morning since she was nine. So, instead, Natasha said "Would you like some breakfast?" Annie, not used to having such a gracious host, nodded, following Natasha to her minute kitchen. Natasha opened the refrigerator, looked blankly at the food inside, and closed it again. "Uh... Be right back." Without another word, Natasha walked out the door, leaving Annie unsupervised.

_There it is!_ her mind screamed at her. _Your way out!_ She even left the door open, for Pete's sake! That's practically begging her to escape, and yet... She hesitated, and that was all the time Natasha needed to come back, trailing a sleepy looking Clint.

"G'morning." mumbled Clint sleepily, rummaging around in the fridge in his half-awake state.

"Good morning." said Annie politely, puzzled as to why Clint was there.

Natasha sat beside Annie, reading her mind. "Yeah, if I tried to cook... We'd be dead."

"So, Hawkeye to the rescue." said Clint dryly, "...at four in the morning." He got together the supplies for pancakes quickly.

A few minutes later, Clint said "So, pancakes cool with everyone?"

Natasha nodded, glad her partner could cook such amazing pancakes. But Annie's blue eyes, which up until now had been icy with mistrust, now clouded with confusion. Clint didn't get it at first, but Natasha immediately knew.

"You don't know what pancakes are." A statement, not a question. Natasha knew that meals consisted of whatever you were given, mainly a bland mush, accompanied by performance enhancing pills. Bite, chew, swallow. Repeat. Food is fuel.

"I've heard of them, but," Annie hesitated. "What are they?"

So innocent, yet a trained killer.

"They're something you must eat. Immediately." said Clint, the aroma of cooking pancakes punctuating his statement.

A moment later, he sat a plate in front of her, laden with golden-brown, syrupy goodness. Annie looked up at Natasha uncertainly, and was met with an encouraging nod.

Clint wondered what on God's green earth went down in this apartment last night.

Slowly, Annie took a careful bite, trusting that they weren't drugged or poisoned.

All of her doubts about them vanished, her mistrust taken away with the olive branch of pancakes. They...were...amazing.

But unless every person at SHIELD can cook like Barton, she's got a long way to go until she trusts anyone else.

* * *

_**Look carefully in Whatever happened in Budapest?. Annie is indirectly mentioned. ;) **_

_**IMA BETA READER NOW! ANYONE NEED ONE?**_


	13. Chapter 13

**_I'm at band camp! _**

* * *

"Annie..." started Natasha.

Oh, great. She had to ruin the perfect, pancake-y moment.

"You have to be evaluated today." continued Natasha.

Annie gently pushed a stray hair behind her ear, hesitating. She hated to ask, but in the end, she needed to know. "What is evaluation?" she asked finally.

"They test your skills." Natasha answered, watching Annie's reaction closely. Please, don't freak out...

"Like... Like... The Tests?" whispered Annie. Clint's eyes narrowed in hatred at the Room when he caught a glimpse of the broken little girl under the mask.

"No, no, nothing like them." Natasha answered quickly.

Annie examined Natasha's face to see if she was lying, though if Natasha was, there was no way that Annie could tell. As far as Annie could see in Natasha's open expression, she wasn't lying.

"Okay." said Annie, rather calmly in fact. She went back to her breakfast, though she now worriedly picked at it.

* * *

Now, Annie stood at SHIELD, terrified.

Not scared; Scared is for children who grew up in a first world country and realized they had a math test the next day. Not frightened, for fright can be easily locked away into the dark corner of her heart where emotions went to die.

No, Annie was terrified.

Terrified that Natasha was lying.

Terrified that this would be The Red Room all over again.

Terrified she wouldn't pass.

Terrified the consequences would be the same as the place she'd just escaped.

She glanced through a veil of hair at Natasha, standing beside her in... A slightly protective stance, though it's very difficult to notice. Annie blinked in surprise, that being all she had time to do before Director Fury walked up to them.

"Agent Romanoff, Smith," acknowledged Fury.

"Director." they replied simultaneously, Natasha's tone as casual as she ever was, while Annie's was rigid.

"Smith, you are to report to training room C for eval. Romanoff, you come with me." Fury walked off in the direction of Training Room C, the one set aside for evaluation. Natasha and Annie followed.

The grey of the halls melded together with the ones of her past, the door to training room C looking eerily like the one she'd always stopped at before the tests. It got closer, and closer, as in the nightmares... But it was real.

And it wasn't.

They stopped at the door. "Smith, you go in here. There is an instructor inside. Romanoff, with me." With that, Fury stalked off toward his observatory, expecting Natasha to follow. She did, but felt her worry for Annie substantially increase once she was out of sight.

Annie looked at the door. An instructor... It's nothing like a Trainer...? At least, she hoped.

With a determined gaze, Annie stepped into the room.

The one of agent Crane's team which she had pinned to the wall stood in the center, his name now visible on his access card. Niles Richards. He looked at her indifferently, almost bored.

"Agent Smith..." He began, his voice fake-patient. "Your first trial will be to take down these agents." No other explanation given, he gestured to several agents against a wall. About fifteen males, and only three females. Still, taking down eighteen opponents twice your size is no easy feat...

"Begin." He said, stepping back. Immediately, one man ran for her.

Annie leapt to the side, narrowly missing him, and spun around, kicking him in the back, sending him to the floor, neutralized.

Three other men immediately ran at her, and Annie proceeded to do the same to them; not killing, but immobilizing. While she struggled against her pursuers, her eyes flashed with her internal struggle.

Natasha watched, pained, and knew Annie would see how close this was to the room.

What was real? Was she supposed to kill the innocent victims again? Or stun them at SHIELD's request? How old was she, nine, ten, eleven? Or was she really the fourteen year old rescued by her own target? What is the reality, what is the lie... Annie couldn't tell anymore.

With not even loss of breath a sign of the battle between the men, Annie stood over the unconscious, but alive, form of the last man. Without thinking, she indifferently wiped a smudge of blood from her forehead. She looked like an avenging angel, someone you'd never expect to be so ruthless until you felt their wrath.

Two of the women stepped toward Annie, their air of professionalism never wavering. They were to take her down. But one stood, uncertainty and growing horror covering her features as one of her fellow co-workers pulled a gun.

"What are you doing?!" yelped the young woman at her fellow agent. The room froze.

"My job, Agent Andrews. Get into position." growled the slightly younger, yet more hardened, other woman on the scene.

"She's a child!" said Agent Andrews, locking the member of her team in a hard gaze. The third woman stood, uncertain, as she was the lowest in rank of this team. She had to follow one of them, but which?

"She's a trained killer." stated the professional woman. Annie watched this from afar, on guard, never letting her defenses down.

"She's frightened, she's bleeding, and she's a child!" cried Agent Andrews with an air of finality.

Both of her team members stepped out of the way as she walked past them, looking angry or ashamed at her actions. Agent Andrews knelt several feet away from Annie. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked cautiously, looking her over worriedly from her distance away.

Annie wordlessly nodded, wondering if she should trust the woman. If this was the Room, the answer would be an absolute no. But Natasha'd told her this was nothing like the Room.

"Sir." said Natasha tensely from her observation area. She could see and hear everything, but they couldn't see or hear her. "Don't let them do this."

"Come on, lets get you cleaned up." said Agent Andrews, holding out her arms in a motherly fashion, ready to pull her into a steadying embrace.

Annie hesitated for a moment, remembering Natasha's promises of change, before taking her hand, and reluctantly allowing herself to be pulled into Andrews' arms. A half-second later, a knife was at her throat, her arm she'd so haltingly given twisted behind her back.

"You lose." said Andrews, her cold voice now containing none of the motherly concern.

That is, until she found the roles reversed about half a second later when she kicked Andrews in the shin, catching the knife she'd dropped, and holding it to her neck. She'd twisted under the older woman's arm, pinning it in the fashion used a moment ago on her.

"Think again." growled Annie. Quickly, she pinched one of the woman's nerves, not even trusting herself to keep the enemy immobilized. Immediately, she shoved her dead weight off of her, not caring when her unconscious form hit the floor with a dull thud.

"She's dangerous now, sir." said Natasha tensely. She would lose it any second, and the others would be killed...!

"Go neutralize the situation." said Fury, continuing to placidly observe.

Natasha immediately sprinted from the room. "Retreat, now!" she ordered into the comm.

The two women fought not to look at each other with varying expressions. The younger, battle scarred one amused at their fear of a little girl, and the youngest, most obeying one terrified at the seriousness in Natasha's voice. That was a life-or-death tone.

The youngest, whose name is Agent Johnson, in case you were wondering, measured the distance to the door in her mind quickly. They could make it with a momentary distraction. As if on cue, Natasha opened the door across the room, and they took their chance, leaving quickly.

"Agent Smith..." said Natasha softly, not wanting to show Fury how casual she'd gotten with the girl.

Annie's eyes hardened further.

"I'm sorry, I tried to stop them-"

Annie clenched her hand harder around the knife, keeping them from trembling. "You failed." she said, and the curt, icy tone chilled Natasha.

"Annie," Forget you, Fury. "Stay calm." said Natasha calmly.

Those words could never be a comfort to her.

The Trainer aimed Annie's hand, forcing her to hold the gun steadily. The rest of her was trembling against her Trainer's Red Room uniform.

"Aim." He pointed it at the innocent victim's head. Probably some person with no family, not easily traceable nor missed.

"Release safety." He said, clicking it off. The click made her tremble harder. No, no, no, no, she didn't want to be a murderer...!

"Stay calm!" he harshly commanded. She forced herself to stop trembling, only to preserve her life.

"Pull the trigger." He instructed. His hand slowly, slowly forced hers onto the little metal trigger. She closed her eyes a split second before her own hand ended someone else's life.

BANG!

All of this flashed through Annie's mind.

And she snapped.

* * *

**Bye!**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Band camp is over! *sob* But WIFI! GLORIOUS WIFI! AHHHHHH *revels in the wifi* If any of you band geeks out there want to know, I was first band, tenth chair, as opposed to second band, third chair from last year. For those of you who don't speak Band Geek, I improved. :D and I made buttons! Like, pin-on buttons. And I made one that said Stop! *thor hammer* Hammer time! And one that said Official Marvel Fangirl. And a CREEPER FAAAACE!**_

* * *

You could see the darkness well up and her eyes, and Natasha knew she was gone. Still, she had to try. "Annie...?"

"Anastasia." growled Annie. The knife in her hand was suddenly pointed dangerously at Natasha.

"Annie." said Natasha, infuriatingly calm. "They can't get you here."

The memories were playing on high in the back of her mind.

"They don't control you."

The sessions of mind-wipes, taking her memory, her identity, her life.

"They don't make you who you are." whispered Natasha.

Annie glared up at her suddenly. "You have no idea what they've done."

"They've killed your family." Annie internally cringed. "They killed mine, too."

Annie refused to admit it. Her life was so horrible... Natasha couldn't possibly understand.

"They made you kill someone at an early age, probably the year you entered, nine. They made me kill someone when I was five."

They're still different.

"They forced you to learn seduction the next year, though you were just young enough not to have to use it...yet. But I did."

"Stop." said Annie. They couldn't be the same, Natasha was good and Annie was only a trained killer. The battle-scarred woman was right.

"You've probably killed ten people in your life. I've killed hundreds." Natasha knelt in front of the tense Annie. "There is only one way we are exactly the same, Annie."

"Don't call me that."

"We both chose to leave. We both decided they didn't own us." continued Natasha, knowing her words would get through.

They did.

Annie lunged for Natasha's nearby throat, surprised when they made contact and were met with no resistance. In that instant of surprise, Natasha whispered four words Annie didn't want to hear. "They don't own you."

Annie's eyes narrowed and she tightened her grip on Natasha's throat. Natasha didn't struggle; she looked Annie dead in the eyes and didn't respond.

"Fight back!" yelled Annie desperately. "Fight back! You're wrong, they own me! That's all I am; a trained killer! Fight back!" She shook Natasha's neck like a dog, but Natasha silently looked Annie in the eyes, not moving. She remained passive even as her face turned colors for want of air. A moment later, Natasha slumped down under Annie's hands.

Annie gazed at her for a few seconds. The steady rise and fall of her chest was gone, instead replaced with a terrifying stillness. Annie swallowed her rising emotions and stumbled to her feet, running toward the door.

She was almost instantly pinned against the floor, struggling uselessly. Natasha'd silently tackled her to the ground, turning them so that Natasha took the brunt of the fall, but Annie was still trapped. Natasha could've escaped if she'd tried. She's just that good of an actor.

"All I am is a trained killer. You, you are a little girl. I'm too screwed up to change, but you have your whole life. I GAVE you your whole life. Don't waste it. " said Natasha. She let her words hang in the air.

Slowly, Natasha stood, offering her hand to Annie.

Slowly, slowly, Annie's hand reached hers. Natasha visibly watched the darkness fade from her eyes. Gently, Natasha pulled her into a hug. Almost imperceptibly, she whispered in Annie's ear: "Fury's watching. You can go home later and break down, just don't in front of him." Natasha sensed Annie's understanding and pulled away, gently leading her out of the room. Fury was already waiting.

"Good work, Agent Romanoff. Agent Smith," Fury paused. She wouldn't know their terms for it, so he simply asked in an emotionless voice: "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sir." said Annie with a perfect poker face.

"Good." said Fury. "Under normal circumstances, your other tests would be today, but I've postponed them to tomorrow. Prepare yourself, agent Smith." said Fury. He gazed steadily at Annie, reading her lies loud and clear. She wasn't okay. But he didn't call her on it; she and Natasha could work it out. "Dismissed."

* * *

_**I wuv woo guys! I sowee, I'm sleeeepy. *falls asleep mid-typing***_

_**Review!**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Ask and ye shall receive, Black Thorn. :D**_

* * *

Annie walked into the apartment a long, long time later. Natasha'd taken her to a secluded spot to eat, introducing her to pie -yum- and then they'd walked around the park, Natasha secretly waiting for Annie to break down. She never did.

Annie didn't like to show weakness, and she'd already ended up falling apart far too many times. She resolved not to break down as long as she could help it, calling on all of her emotion control lessons from the Room. Finally, Natasha took her home, announcing that she was going to bed. Annie wholeheartedly agreed, tired from the day.

As she laid down on the bed, her control slipped at the same time she fell asleep... Bad dreams are inevitable.

* * *

_Nine year old Anastasia screamed, clutching her broken arm. It was all she could possibly do not to let the tears run down her face. _

_"Give me your arm." commanded the Trainer that had just broken it. He unapologetically took it from her when she hesitated. "You scream again, I break your other one." he said. He isn't joking. _

_Quickly, he snapped the arm back into place so that it would heal properly. It was probably already healing; enhancers were a useful invention. Anastasia cried out; she couldn't help it, the pain was too great. _

_The Trainer glared, disappointed. "Give me your other arm." _

_"Sir, please, I apologize-" begged Anastasia. _

_He roughly jerked her other arm from where she had it protectively against her chest. She'll thank him later when her pain tolerance is insanely high... At least, that's what the Trainer thought. _

_"Do not talk back to your Trainers." He growled, twisting her arm harshly, a sickening snap punctuating his sentence._

* * *

Annie woke up to screaming...that wasn't her own.

.

.

.

.

.

.

She stood, wishing she had a weapon to reassure her. Quickly, she ran toward the source of the noise, coming to a dead halt when she realized where it was coming from.

Natasha's room.

Shocked, but not wanting to burst in, Annie called softly: "Agent Romanoff...? Natasha?" Hearing no response, she pressed her ear to the door.

Oh my God.

She was _whimpering_.

Annie stumbled away from the door like it'd burned her. What was she supposed to do? She can't wake her up, what would she say...?

Decisively, Annie ran to the door, checking the clock on the way. Midnight. She hoped Clint wouldn't be mad as she walked out the door, quickly hurrying to Clint's door.

Clint awoke to a rather hurried knock. He looked through the peephole, a gun in hand, and saw a...worried?...Annie standing outside. He opened it, tossing his gun back to it's place. "Annie? It's midnight...what's wrong?" he asked, wide awake at her look of worry.

She said the only two words that would get him to leave his apartment at this ungodly hour. "It's Natasha."

Clint froze. "What's wrong? Is she okay? What happened?" he asked rapidly. If anything happened to Natasha...!

"I don't know... I think she's having a nightmare, but she didn't wake up when I called." Annie said.

Clint's expression softened. "Thank you for telling me. There's a good chance she would've shot you if you startled her awake from a nightmare." He jogged to Natasha's door without another word. Annie followed him, stopping when he walked into her bedroom. Feeling as though she was intruding, she backed away softly.

Clint walked into Natasha's bedroom, the imaginary boundary line Annie regarded so much not fazing him in the least. The sight of his usually stoic partner curled into herself and crying in her sleep made Clint want to kill every last one of the people who put her through what she was dreaming about. These thoughts didn't even make him break stride as he walked over to his partner.

"Natasha." he said softly, sitting beside her and placing his hand on her back. She stiffened but didn't awake. "Natasha, wake up, it's just a dream..."

Natasha shot up, her gun instantly trained on his head, and the only thing keeping her from shooting him point blank was the part of her that instantly recognized her partner.

"Natasha." he said softly.

Slowly, she put down her gun, her hands trembling. "Clint, I'm sorry-" she whispered.

"There's nothing to apologize for." Clint interrupted softly. "Are you okay?"

Natasha took a shuddering breath. "I'm fine." she replied, not meeting his gaze. Give her half an hour; she'd get her emotions under control.

Clint reluctantly stood, not wanting to leave but knowing he couldn't help any more if she wouldn't admit she wasn't okay. Natasha watched him walk slowly to her door, hesitating. Before she knew it, the words had already slipped out of her mouth. "Clint... Will you stay?" she asked softly, sheepishly.

Clint turned without hesitating, laying down beside her. "I'm always here." he said softly. Natasha rested her head against his chest with a tired sigh.

"Thank you, Clint." she said softly. They were both asleep in moments.

Annie turned the other way on her bed, having heard the whole exchange through her paper thin walls.

She wondered what it was like to have someone to comfort you.

* * *

_**I am going on vacation in about a week, and I'm trying to update all of my stories with a nice, long chapter. :D**_

_**-JoMiSm**_


	16. Chapter 16

**_I. Can't. Wait. For. Vacation. _****_Anyone need a Beta? _**

* * *

Annie awoke the next morning at five, which may not be a sane hour to most of us, but it's an improvement for her. She got up quickly, getting dressed and even putting on her shoes, not quite used to not having any weapons to hide yet. After brushing, and on a whim, braiding, her blonde hair, she tiptoed down the hall in her stealthy shield boots. Not being intrusive, just being curious, she glanced, emphasis on _glanced _through the door.

Natasha's head rested on Clint's chest, and Clint's arm was draped over her in a protective way. Annie quickly looked away, feeling intrusive, and continued on to the kitchen.

Looking around, she grabbed the supplies she'd seen Clint get yesterday, calling upon her memory skills. A moment later, not letting herself be hesitant, she started to cook the pastry. When the smell of pancakes filled the room, she knew she'd done it right, and smiled triumphantly.

Clint awoke to the smell of pancakes, which is quite possibly the best way to wake up in the history of ever. Sleepily taking in his surroundings, he noticed his partner snuggled up to him.

Hold up. Rewind.

_Snuggled up to him? _

Natasha Romanoff does not 'snuggle up.'

What. The. Heck?

Feeling his slight movements, Natasha awoke to the smell of pancakes mingling with the smell of Clint's body wash, which is _actually _the best way in the history of ever to wake up. Drawing in a deep breath, she shifted closer to her partner, quite literally snuggling into his chest.

Then she froze and wondered what _the heck _she'd just done.

They both remained frozen in that position, their minds racing to figure out one single way this wasn't compromising.

One. Single. Way.

They couldn't find one.

"Morning." mumbled Natasha, staying in the same position for a millisecond longer than needed, though both decided to ignore it. Natasha sat up before standing, Clint closely following. Nice and awkward. Clint, knowing Natasha needed to change her clothes, started toward the door, but paused when Natasha said his name. "Clint." she said softly.

Clint paused, turning toward her questioningly.

Natasha hesitated. "Thank you." she murmured. Clint smiled at her uncharacteristic sheepishness.

"Any time, Natasha." he said, and he meant it. That was the best sleep either of them had gotten in ages. Knowing she had nothing else to say, he turned, going to search for the smell of pancakes.

"Hey, Annie!" Clint said, cheerful because those pancakes smelled good and for once he hadn't slaved over a hot stove for them. She held out a plate of pancakes with the smallest smile Clint'd ever seen, but it's there and it's _real, _and that says a lot. "Thanks." he said, taking the pancakes, pouring half the bottle of syrup over his pancakes and taking a bite. His eyes widened-they tasted just like his! "Annie, where'd you learn to make these?"

"I watched you." Annie said, taking another bite nonchalantly.

"You...watched...? But I didn't explain any of it; I don't even take measurements, I just go by looks!" Clint said, trying to hide his astonishment.

"I just remembered the amounts..." Annie said. She had a visual memory, rather than one that could remember stats.

"...I need to teach you to cook. You, you are a natural." Clint said, taking another bite. Annie took his complement with another ghost of a smile.

Natasha walked in, in her SHIELD uniform and fastening her Black Widow belt. "Mornin'" said Natasha, accepting the pancakes from Annie with a smile. She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, then looked at Annie. "You made these?" Natasha asked, pointing her fork at Annie. Annie nodded. "Official chef of Casa Natasha!" Natasha declared, going back to the pancakes.

A silence followed, a syrup-filled silence, the best kind, and you know a great way to end the best kind of silence? With awkward! That's definitely the best way!

Annie quickly asked her question, not letting herself hesitate. "So...Are you two, like...together?" She asked, keeping her expression and tone neutral.

...awkward silence...

"Yes, we've been married for five years." Clint said, slinging his arm over Natasha's shoulder and kissing her cheek with grandeur.

A moment later, both of their chairs were knocked to the ground as Natasha pinned him there, eyes flashing. "Teasing about fraternization rules is not funny." Natasha said dangerously, standing a moment later. She offered Him a hand and he took it, her pulling him up.

"No, SHIELD agents are not allowed to be together, or it could compromise them." Natasha said. Annie nodded, but she saw the way she looked at him, and helped him up even when she was angry with him. If compromised was the word for it, they were compromised.

"The rest of the eval is today... It's a lot of paperwork, mostly. And you'll be asked to tell your life story to a shrink." Natasha sighed.

Annie's good mood promptly vanished. Great. More SHIELD mind games.

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_**Happy Fourth of July! Or Independence day! Or We-lost-a-cool-accent day! Or Hurray-we-got-rid-of-them day in Britain. Any of my reviewers who aren't from the good ole' US of A, what is the Fourth like over there? Is it ignored? **_

_**-JoMiSm **_


	17. Chapter 17

_**For AllforJesus! WHOEVER REVIEWS FIRST WITH THE CODE PHRASE: FURY IS A PIRATE, AAARG! WITH THE APPROPRIATE NUMBER OF A'S, GETS TO DECIDE WHICH STORY IS UPDATED NEXT! **_

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Natasha brought Annie reluctantly to the psych eval room. In the mostly deserted hall, Natasha crouched to be eye to eye with Annie.

"Annie." Natasha started seriously. "They're going to ask some tough questions." Annie waited for the point. She'd endured worse than a few questions. "But, please, do not lie. They will be able to tell, and it will only hurt you in the end." Annie internally scoffed, but nodded.

She scoffed before the questions.

Each one contained a trigger to a different brutal memory, all hidden extremely well behind masks but every slight thing written down on a notebook. This was not the gentle questioning of Agent Morrison, AKA Janice, this was a full out interrogation lead by Dr. (He refused to be called 'agent.') Jacobs.

"Who was your parental figure?" Dr. Jacobs asked in a dull monotone.

Not too bad of a question, until you have to think about the answer. "I had none."

"You never had a mother or father?" His nasal, annoying voice continued on with no sympathy.

"Not that I remember." Annie said, semi-honestly. Her poker face was impeccable.

His eyes lit up at her wording. He thought he was so clever, catching on to the 'remember' in that sentence. "Why can't you remember?"

"I'd rather not say..." Annie said, and if she was the type of person to shift uncomfortably, she would've shifted.

"Oh, shall I tell Director Fury that you are not cooperating?" Dr. Jacobs raised a challenging eyebrow. She couldn't not reply-she'd be kicked out of SHIELD... And onto the most wanted list.

"They erased my memories." Annie said, barely holding back a wince at the memories of a painful injection after nearly every mission.

A scribble on the little pad accompanied a triumphant smirk on Dr. Jacobs's face. Annie itched to slap off the stupid grin, but she held herself back. She didn't want to be blackballed by this cruel man whose opinion mattered so much.

He continued on. "What else did they do to you?"

So many painful memories flashed through her head at the same instant that she really did wince almost imperceptibly. Another scribble on the pad. "There's too much to tell." Annie said, another half-truth.

"We can stay here all day." Dr. Jacobs leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms calmly.

Annie engaged in an intense staring contest that abruptly ended when he scribbled something on the pad without looking away. What could he tell from her sitting completely still and completely silent?

"What can you possibly be writing?" Annie asked in a cold tone, fed up with this man already. He radiated an aura of _annoying_.

"Agent smith, I believe I'm the one who's payed to ask questions." Dr. Jacobs replied dryly.

Annie _glared_ harshly at the man.

"Aaah, 'the patient refuses to cooperate and should be immediately disposed of-'" The psychiatrist pretended to write on his pad, looking back up with a challenging eyebrow raised. Annie knew what he wanted in response: an angry answer that would be filled with too much information because she lost her cool. Instead, surprising him, her glare melted into a calm, unnerving stare.

"They trained me." When he opened his mouth to tell her to elaborate, she crossed her arms and continued. "In languages, all core subjects, boxing, kung fu, judo, taekwondo, ninjutsu, karate, kick-boxing, fist fighting, acrobatics, gymnastics, stealth, seduction, fighting while injured, and below-zero temperatures, and above hundred degree temperatures, and while holding our breath..." She raised a challenging eyebrow. "Should I continue?"

The previously stoic psychologist looked a little shaken, then he frantically scribbled on his pad mouthing the words she just said as he wrote.

"Okay, now am I done here?" Annie asked when he looked back up. He scrabbled for questions, but she had just completely thrown off his careful plan. She seized his one silent moment and stood. "Good. Now, goodbye." She walked out the door.

A flustered Dr. Jacobs hurried to the door, peering down the hall to try to stop her, but she'd already vanished.

* * *

Natasha, though she refused to admit it, got a little worried when Annie didn't show up. As she walked down the hall, an icy aura kept all of the other people away from her. She is not pleasant when worried.

Lucky for everyone on base, five minutes later, she found herself looking up at Annie. Annie had, in fact, walked all the way across base, remembering her way through the twisting halls all the way to training room B. She'd almost immediately climbed up into the rafters, quaking silently and trying to repress all of the darkness seeping into her consciousness. How did Natasha deal with it? She'd experienced so much more than Annie...

The answer became apparent when Clint followed Natasha around the corner, laying a calming hand on Natasha's shoulder. If he'd been anyone else, he'd be dead. But since he was Clint, she relaxed fractionally before speaking to Annie.

"Annie? You okay?" Natasha called up. Annie's eyes flashed in mental pain, but she didn't, of course, say no.

"I'm okay." Annie replied, her tone betraying nothing. She jumped down, landing beside Clint. Neither assassin was fooled-heck, she didn't even fool herself-but couldn't they pretend, just for a moment, that everything was fine?

Natasha and Clint walked out, Annie between them, and the facade could've fooled anyone. But to the three assassins, it was only a facade, and that is all it could ever be. They could never be normal. Three unchosen childhoods had cost them that privilege.

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**_1.) Sorry that Took so long, All For Jesus. _**

_**2.) School started back, so... Less frequent updates. **_

**3.) GO READ I DARE YOU BY SHADOWSONTHERUN IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY. IT IS THE BEST CLINTASHA FIC ON THIS ENTIRE SITE. **

**_That's it, see ya. _**

**_-JoMiSm_**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Winner of le poll! :) LAAAAAST CONTEST! Say the word 'persnickety' in a review, in a sentence, and you'll get to choose the NEXT THREEEEE STORIES I UPDATE! And, yes, you can choose 'post new story,' and that will get you a brand new story dedicated to you. **_

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Annie was walking through the main area of SHIELD, full of computers and paperwork and busy people, and she was trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. She was succeeding very well until the Room's plan fell into place.

Natasha was the first to escape, ever. They hadn't had a backup to the brainwashing then, but they had one now. One that no one knew about-not even Annie at the moment. A microscopic chip planted directly in her brain, a chip that released painful waves in rapid succession. If you escaped, you sure didn't get to live a 'normal' life for very long.

The delayed timer on the chip went off just as Annie was walking through the busiest bit of SHIELD beside two assassins-lovely timing. But Annie wasn't exactly worried about timing when her skull was suddenly pounding with the worst pain she'd ever felt in her life. For the first time in all of SHIELD's history, the whole room went silent, the only sound a shrill shriek of pure agony from a girl, crumpled on the floor suddenly.

"Annie?" Clint asked, alarmed, kneeling beside her. Annie's arms wrapped around her head, her screams continuing because she couldn't _think_ through the pain. The room erupted into worried or nosy murmurs, people creeping closer.

Natasha knelt just as quickly as Clint. "Annie? Annie, what's wrong?" Natasha asked, her voice calm while she felt anything but. Annie's screams turned to whimpers as she blacked out from the pain.

Natasha looked up, angered to see everyone standing idly and staring, including the medical team! Natasha gently lifted Annie's still form. "Thanks for the help." Natasha muttered as she passed by them, making them wince from her icy glare.

Natasha made it to the medical wing, the unconscious girl in her arms and a deadly look on her face. If you didn't get out of the way fast enough, you were shoved aside. Once she made it to a room, Natasha, not matching the terrifying expression on her face, gently laid Annie down on the scratchy SHIELD cot. After Annie was on the cot, Natasha whirled around.

Two timid looking medics winced back from her glare, the only people walking down the path Natasha'd made. Natasha wordlessly pointed into the room, indicating that they should do their jobs and help the poor girl in there. They cowered under her angry gaze and rushed inside.

As soon as the door closed, a hushed murmur fell through the crowd and Natasha turned to Clint. "What do you-" she noticed all of the idiots listening in to their conversation. Easily, she slipped into Hungarian. "-Szerintem a baj vele?" Though her tone was casual, you don't ask 'What do you think is wrong with her?' Unless you're worried.

Unlike his partner, Clint sounded worried, in his quiet way. "Ich weiß es nicht." Clint responded, 'I don't know' being the safe response.

The people listening in were thrown off by the Hungarian and German and grudgingly left. Even so, Natasha waited a good five minutes after the hall had cleared.

"It has to be the Room." Natasha suddenly said.

"Tasha-" Clint started, softly.

"No, it _has_ to be... There isn't anyone else who could hurt her that much without touching her." Natasha cut him off. _Other than me_ was left unsaid.

Clint nodded, and she could tell he was worried for Annie.

An hour passed, then thirty more minutes... Natasha and Clint's positions slowly changed from their erect posture to leaning against the wall to, finally, sitting on the cold tile floor, waiting on the doctors to come back outside of the room. No more words passed between them, but they both drew their own form of comfort from the person sitting beside them.

Finally, a doctor tentatively peeked into the hallway. Natasha was instantly on her feet, her arms crossed as she looked at the doctor. When she didn't feel Clint's presence beside her, she glanced back at him. She rolled her eyes.

Clint was sitting in the same position as before, except now he was holding his hand up at Natasha with a serious face.

"Really?" Natasha asked dryly.

"My arm's getting tired." Clint replied without missing a beat. Natasha sighed, grabbed his hand, and quickly hauled him to his feet. Though her expression didn't change, his immature, annoying, idiotic attitude was comforting. (Her words, not mine.)

Natasha turned back to the doctor, who didn't relax at all at their little humorous moment. She looked...impatient? Oh! The doctor realized she expected him to speak without being asked. "Well, um, Agent Romanoff, I have good news and bad news..." he started.

"Just tell me." Natasha said before he could beat around the bush.

"Um, ah, the bad news is... There's a microchip in her brain that caused the pain and we don't know what else it might do." The doctor sped through the bad news as quickly as possible.

They put a chip in her brain. A _chip_. In her _brain_.

She didn't show anything on her face, despite her inner turmoil. "What's the good news?" Natasha asked, not getting her hopes up in the slightest.

"It's stopped transmitting for the moment." The doctor tried to make that sound like the best thing ever.

"Can you remove it?" Clint asked, startling the doctor who'd already forgotten he was there.

The doctor paled. That was the question he'd been avoiding. "That's the thing..." the doctor said. Like ripping off a band-aid...! "There's an eighty percent chance that she won't make it if we try the procedure." he said hurriedly.

Natasha's thoughts screeched to a halt for a split second. "Do it anyway." Natasha said firmly.

The air was suddenly chilled. "Tasha..." Clint started cautiously.

"Trust me. " Natasha said, looking up at him. He saw in her gaze what she already knew with all of her heart: Annie'd rather die than have the Room controlling her. They looked back at the doctor, and they both looked sure this time.

"...I'll get the paperwork." The doctor murmured, turning and praying that this girl was lucky, for her own sake.

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**_1.) Sorry, that took FOREVER. _**

**_2.) In English, my bell work was to write an EXTREMELY short story about either A.) *insert random words I can't remember* B.) Write a story about a turtle stuck on it's back by the road. What does it see, smell, think? Be descriptive. (Child's play.) C.) You're a superhero. What do you do in your day? _**

**_Guys, it was so tempting _**

**_SO TEMPTING _**

**_to write a page of fanfiction and totally BLOW MY TEACHER'S MIND. _**

**_But i didn't because in my school, that'd get me some REALLY weird looks. :"( so I wrote about a turtle. It was fantabulous. _**

**_BLACK THORN! Thanks so much for your reviews, and I'm sorry that Is She Taken? was too short. I tried to make this chapter long for you..._**

**_CONTEST GO! _**


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